


something better left unknown

by qbrujas



Category: Blades of Light and Shadow (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Female Human MC, Nightmares And Comfort, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28733718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qbrujas/pseuds/qbrujas
Summary: “Can I stay with you tonight?” Her voice is nearly a whisper. “Just… to sleep?”He steps towards her, and takes her hands in his.“Always, kit. You never need to ask that.”
Relationships: Mal Volari/Main Character (Blades of Light and Shadow)
Kudos: 9





	something better left unknown

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr. Set in Undermount, after the Masquerade (between chapters 12 and 13).

Nightmares are a regular occurrence these days, dreams full of darkness, full of corruption and full of Kade, most of all. Full of many more things Reva does not dare speak or even think of after they are gone from her mind’s eye, for fear of manifesting them into existence. But most of the time, she can push them away and forget about them by day’s light.

This time, that is not the case.

A never-ending sense of dread, the image of Tyril’s blade embedded in Duchess Xenia’s mouth; life, however dark it was but it was _life_ , leaving her monstrous eyes in an instant. It was justice and it was fairness and it was what needed to be done, what they set out to do from the start—but the image will not stop haunting Reva, no matter how she tries to push it away, like one final act on the dark duchess’ part to taint the world with her influence.

And with that the weight of everything else that she has seen and heard comes crashing down on her until she is frozen, paralyzed, unable to see or think of anything else other than the endless darkness they are attempting to face. They are closer than ever to their goal, one more shard to collect and its location known, and yet Reva has never felt so lost, drifting away in that dark ocean, no shore to be seen anywhere in the horizon.

In the end, after many twists and turns, she manages to gather enough willpower to do more than just resign herself to her thoughts. She knocks softly on the door of the guest bedroom that Mal is occupying, just a few doors away from her own.

He starts to smile when he sees her, but something in her gaze or her demeanor tells him there is something wrong. So he waits, concern in his eyes.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” Her voice is nearly a whisper. “Just… to sleep?”

He steps towards her, and takes her hands in his.

“Always, kit. You never need to ask that.”

He doesn’t ask her what’s wrong, he doesn’t make her talk. He holds her close as they go to bed together and there is such tenderness, such care in his amber eyes, more than she has ever seen. She nearly cries from the warmth of it, like warm water that feels scalding after having fallen into a frozen lake.

She brings one hand up to his cheek and just holds it there, feeling his skin and the coarseness of his beard. She barely dares to breathe and when she does it comes slowly, measuredly. He doesn’t take his gaze off of hers, and they lie there, awake, for what feels like ages. She doubts she will sleep, but little by little, she feels some of the weariness and the weight drain out of her.

“Thank you,” she says, much later and still shaky, closing her eyes for a moment. Mal doesn’t immediately reply—he takes her hand and brings it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles before giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Anything you need, Reva.”

The gesture and the softness in his voice and the way he says her name make Reva's heart ache—she wants to lean in closer and lose herself in him, drink in his warmth and his comfort and his safety, but she is scared, scared of kissing him now, like this.

All their kisses until now have been easy, fun—flirting over stolen wine, laughing at the elves’ judgment at the masquerade just before the storm struck; almost carefree moments of joy and passion that she has cherished in their journey. Reaching out and kissing him now in the state she is in would mean acknowledging something entirely different, something deeper and more vulnerable and completely unpredictable.

And if there really isn’t that much of a difference between kissing him and what she is doing, which is finding herself holding onto him for her sanity, nestled into his arms and clinging to his warmth, well, at least she can act like there is.


End file.
